


A Time for Thanksgiving

by moredibell



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moredibell/pseuds/moredibell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And who amongst us is not thankful to have had such friends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time for Thanksgiving

Late October, 2013.

Rachel walked through the New York streets, pulling her coat around her. She went out, intending to get something to eat before returning, but once outside she found she wasn't hungry. So she wandered aimlessly, unconsciously grateful that today was a relatively easy day.

Something caught her eye and all at once, the day became almost impossible to deal with. Wandering over to the window, she stared quietly at the display. It wasn't Christmas for another two months--but that had never stopped any business from trying to profit off holiday seasons. She was vaguely surprised that it wasn't a Thanksgiving scene, though that was swept away as she looked at the scene.

The Christ-child was in the manger, his mother Mary sitting at the head, watching over her child. Behind her stood Joseph. All that was to the right; the left side given over to countless figurines. Lamb, oxen, donkeys, shepherds, the Magi. They had come to pay homage to the Christ-child. Rachel raised her eyes to the second level of the display. The angels, of course. They appeared to the shepherds, which meant...

The third level held the guiding star.

Rachel swallowed hard, reaching into her handbag. She pulled out her purse, looking inside for a brief moment before walking to the door. She cast a look back at the scene before setting her shoulders, opening the door.

~*~

Early November, 2013.

Puck sat back, staring around his apartment. It... was his place, filled with a bunch of crap. There _was_ a reason he'd not taken Jake here. Aside from feeling embarrassed and inadequate. He had barely enough room for himself, he didn't want to try it with more than him in there.

A knock sounded and he got up, opening the door.

"Noah..."

His mother paused, staring into his apartment. "Sweetie, would you like some help cleaning up the apartment?"

"I..." Puck sighed, letting her in. "I don't even know where to begin."

Mrs Puckerman pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back. "How much of this stuff do you even really want, Noah?"

"I don't even know, mom... I just took it with me because..."

Mrs Puckerman smiled. "Yes, I'm familiar with that reason. Come on, dear, I'll show you some good tricks for clearing up."

A couple of hours later, Puck surveyed the apartment, feeling a little better about it. He knew the likelihood of it ever looking really good was zero--he didn't make enough money to be able to invest it into better furniture; if he did, he'd have a better place to live. His mother was taking stuff to the dump for him and had asked to keep some stuff that meant more to her than him, so he hadn't come out too badly.

"Noah, dear?"

"Yeah, mom?"

"I found this in your room... is it important?"

Puck looked up as his mother opened the package and felt a fresh ache in his heart. Schooling his face against the emotion, he gently tugged it out of her hands. "It's just something I need to deal with, mom. Saw it a few months back. Um... thanks for the help. I can take care of it from here."

His mother opened her mouth before closing it and nodding. "Do stop by for a meal, sweetie."

Puck was too preoccupied to answer as his mother left.

~*~

Mid November, 2013.

Quinn saved her assignment, thinking over the next sentence. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since her bagel when entering the coffee shop. She went and ordered a coffee and a sandwich, taking both back to the table, reading over the assignment. She frowned; she sort of knew where she wanted to go with it, but not really how to accomplish that. Shrugging, she sat back to enjoy her meal.

A family came in, their four kids causing Quinn to look up, shaking her head at their rambunctioness. She wondered if Beth would ever cause that much chaos for Shelby...

"My mascot rules!"

"No way! Mine is best!"

"He could kick both their bu--behinds!"

"You dummies forget my mascot is King in this state!"

Quinn smiled, looking over. She remembered that rivalry with her sister. Both so equally sure that they were right, though it had usually been over Barbies. Her eyes locked onto the youngest child. He couldn't have been more than six. She closed her eyes, a wave of tears threatening. Over Barbies. Not over mascots.

She haphazardly shoved her computer into her bag, walking over to the table.

"Excuse me," she said, keeping her voice steady.

The parents looked up. "I'm sorry, are the kids a bit loud? We noticed you were studying."

"No, they're fine. I just saw they were playing with the mascots. I thought they must be new--I know I played with a couple of dolls as soon as they were paid for when I was a kid. And they don't look old. Where did you buy them? I was going to get one for..." She threaded her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

The parents exchanged looks, giving her time to regain some composure.

"We can tell you the place, miss; it's just a ten minute drive down the road. Which did you want, cause I think you're going to be disappointed?"

"I wanted... he wanted to..." Quinn said, her voice cracking. She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. She managed to point to the youngest.

The mother sighed, looking at her with compassion. "I'm sorry, sweetie, they won't have anymore for two months."

Quinn closed her eyes, managing a thank you. Choking back sobs, she went for the door, her laptop bag smacking into some chairs. Yanking the door open, she overbalanced, falling. The fall seemed to knock some composure into her, for after a few seconds, she stood up, reaching for the door far more calmly.

"Here."

Quinn half turned, seeing the little boy holding up the mascot.

"Huh?" she said, unable to process.

"Here. You need him more than me."

Quinn reached out, her hand trembling. The little boy pressed the soft toy into her hand, closing her fingers around him.

"Thank you..." Quinn said, more tears escaping.

The boy nodded and scampered back to his parents. 

Quinn made it back to her car before the tears came again, harder than before.

~*~

Mid-late November, 2013.

Kurt walked through the halls of McKinley. He would have preferred ghosted--it matched how he felt. The students didn't bother him, far too concerned with their own issues to notice some guy. The teachers left well enough alone when he turned blank eyes on them.

He looked around the choir room, unsurprised that he came here, of all places. Here was where it all began. There'd been plenty of good times, and more than a handful of bad ones. How many times had they all been in here, trying to accomplish Schue's latest task? Maybe about as often as they had been out in the school proper trying to accomplish things.

Holding that thought, Kurt headed through the school. He was unsurprised by his next stop: the football field. Wandering along the outlines of the field, he thought back to his audition. Blasting Beyonce had gotten him a fair number of crazy looks, but it worked.

Of course, that was before. When they were young and stupid. Kurt clenched a fist, walking along. They'd done Thriller here, on the field. The team had gone on to win the game. Amazing how unnerved people could get by football players in zombie makeup.

He leaned against the goal post, staring at the sky. How long he stood there, he wasn't sure. The sky was dark before Kurt came to a decision, though he had got to the school late in the day. Coming here had kind of put it in focus. Kurt couldn't avoid it anymore. Not that he'd wanted to--it had just happened that way.

He'd have to return to NYADA soon, but duty called first.

~*~

Thanksgiving, 2013.

Quinn pushed the gates of Woodlawn Cemetery open. She couldn't see it from here, but she found she still knew the way. Arriving at the granite slab, she knelt, placing Brutus Buckeye in the center.

"I know it isn't much," she said, "and it's not a place on the team. You would have been good, Finn. He would have cheered for you. I know that. I would have cheered for you. But... maybe it was better that way. I heard you were going to go for teaching. At first, I thought you were crazy... but Puck..."

"I know he was going to be a great teacher, Quinn," Puck said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He did really well with New Directions. I didn't kick his butt for nothing. He had talent, people would have looked up to him. I told him that, and he was taking his classes seriously..."

Quinn looked up at him, watching him pull out a pennant banner. He offered her one end. She stood up, taking it and together they fastened it to the headstone. Each triangle of the pennant was stamped with a letter: "Mr Hudson".

"I remembered that my teacher made one of these," he said, putting his arm around her. "And I found a place that made them... but... I didn't get to give it to him. It was a joke, something..."

"He'd've liked it," Quinn said. "It would have encouraged him. You were his best friend."

"Room for one more?"

They turned, seeing Rachel.

"You had the same idea?" Quinn said.

Rachel smiled, stepping past them and setting down the five pointed star. "I suppose I did at that."

She stepped back, leaning against Puck. "He bought me a star. He was going to name it after me... but then he named it after himself. So I could look up at the sky when I was lonely. And no matter where he was, I'd know he was looking down on me."

"No one could ever look down on you, Berry," Puck said.

Quinn half snorted. "You always did, Puck."

Rachel smiled at the word play, looking at the headstone.

"I didn't expect to see anyone else here."

The three turned, shifting aside to let Kurt through.

"If you'd like to be alone..." Puck said.

Kurt shook his head, a little touch by Puck's uncharacteristic offer. "It's okay... it seems almost right that you're here."

Rachel detached from Puck, squeezing Kurt's hand.

"Sorry I didn't bring you anything, Finn," he said. "But I didn't see much point in buying flowers... figured you'd be happier with just me."

"I'm sure he is," Quinn said.

"God, it hurts so much," Puck said, making no move to wipe the tears away. "I can't believe I'll never..."

"I know," Rachel said. "I keep thinking I should tell him something, but I can't now, can I?"

"I expect him to just come in the door," Kurt said. "If only he'd say I should get rid of that faggy lamp one more time..."

Quinn hiccupped. "He was the best of us. Not perfect, not by any means... but he held us together. Believed in us, in Glee, even when we didn't. Oh, _god_..."

The four stood together, holding tight as tears flowed. When the tears were spent, they made no move to break away, not until a wind began to blow. Quinn pulled her jacket around her, buttoning it up.

"I suppose we should get going..."

"Dad and Carole'll be waiting for me," Kurt said. "If we're done?"

"We're not," Puck said. He stepped closer, placing one hand on the headstone. "We came today for a reason, didn't we?"

Rachel smiled, joining Puck, placing her hand on his. Quinn was next and lastly Kurt, the four looking at the inscription.

Finn Hudson  
Beloved Son + Friend  
1994-2013  
Don't Stop Believing

"Happy Thanksgiving, Finn. Thank you, for everything."

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the week following Cory's death. It helped me, and now, I share it with you. Special thanks to Kit, who told me it touched her, and she doesn't even like Glee. It is decidedly not canon, although I make nods to canon references.


End file.
